Behind The Badge

I've always been attracted to older men, so when the cop that was charged with the detail of watching over us approached me I was all over it.  We had one incident at the coffee shop where I worked and Mr. Grigas got over protective. He was a good friend of the police department, so they didn't mind working extra details for him to make sure his girls were safe at night.

Mark was his name. He was tall, dark, handsome, and his very presence exuded strength and dominance.  He sure did watch over us, me in particular a little too closely.  He didn't like the fact that we had to walk through the alley at night to get home.  I didn't mind it.  I loved the dark.  It was always where I felt most comfortable.    He began to meet me after work to walk me home, and was always really respectful.  I wondered why he never kissed me even though I could tell the minute he wanted to.  He always seems to pause and change the subject just when I thought he might finally do it.  It was sweet really.

One particular spring day, he took my hand in his while we walked.  I was too shocked to say a word, too excited by his touch.  It was instant warmth.  The whole gesture was pretty casual and to others would seemingly go unnoticed.  To me it was everything.

It was on that day where Mark paused just before my front door, looked into my eyes and with such gentle force crushed me against the brownstone where I lived, let out a low growl, and kissed me so deeply I couldn't breathe.  I lost all sense of where I was and his kiss left me so weak in the knees I could barely stand. That's when Mark lifted me up, wrapped my legs around his waist and carried me to my front door.  He never let me go as he opened the door, climbed the stairs, and got me into the apartment.  Once inside he pressed me into the door, my legs still wrapped around his body and turned my world over on its back.

I reached for his neck so that I could grasp his thick dark hair and pull him closer to me.  As close as he was, I needed him closer.  He shocked me, when he grabbed my hands from around his neck and with a quick force he pinned my arms over my head and held my wrists in his one hand.  The intensity of that one action had my skin on fire from the heat that formed in my core.  He pulled back, pausing to breath, and he stole my own breath.  I was an instant puddle, I wanted him so badly. His dark eyes grew darker, and he formed a sly grin just before gently kissing my lips.  A complete contrast to the intensity on the street and my current position pinned to the wall by his large frame and strong hand.  He kissed along my jaw, to my ear, then buried his face into the hollow of my collar bone.  I couldn't stop that long moan that escaped me when he did that.  This brought out his own groan as well.  Slowly he  licked up the side of my neck until he could gently tug on my earlobe with his teeth.  I gasped once more when he whispered in my ear, "I've been dying to fuck you for so long. Make no mistake about it, today we will Fuck, and then you will be mine."  Those words were my undoing. I wanted this man and I was going to have him.  Just like he said.

That one kiss that turned into the an intense evening of sex changed me.  I turned into someone I never thought I could be given my history. That was the day I began my affair with a married man.  

                                     --Lola Fontaine 2014